


Blood

by peppermintquartz



Series: Bane and Blake [3]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone follows Blake on his nightly patrol.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood

Bruce Wayne, formerly multi-billionaire, now just a multi-millionaire. Patents and smart investments made under different identities, all of them legitimate (for a given value of legit), and Bruce Wayne can safely say that he will never need to answer to a supervisor or a boss.

He's still slumming it, taking First Class instead of his private jet.

Selina Kyle drinks to his health and her satisfaction on very fine champagne.

Once the attendants are out of earshot, she says, "How long is this visit going to be, Wayne? I have places I'd rather be."

"You could've gone ahead to Dubai," Bruce points out very reasonably.

Selina shoots him a by-now-familiar arch look. "I prefer to use your cash and your credit, my darling."

"Oh, the truth, it hurts," Wayne remarks dryly, a hand over his heart. "Did it hurt telling it?"

"Not as much as you will if we stay any longer than three days," says the beautiful woman. She signals for water and then rests her cheek on her hand. "You know that Lucius Fox, if he's as smart as you claim, would've figured it out by now. And you didn't go to Florence by accident, and certainly not to that one cafe every single afternoon until your butler saw you. Us. As for the commissioner, we see his face every other morning in the Gotham dailies that you insist on subscribing to with my new credit cards."

"You use me, I use you."

"Trite."

"I know they are fine, Selina."

"So, again: why are we going back to that cesspit of crime?"

Bruce Wayne sighs and relaxes against his seat. Slumming it, he remembers. It is not as comfy as his old seat back on his private Lear, but it is tons better than the wicker chairs Selina had swooned over in Athens. "They lit the signal again."

"It's for the new guy," reminds Selina gently. "It's not meant for you."

"I just want to see how he's doing, that's all." Bruce smiles and closes his eyes. It's a long flight after all.

 

 

It isn't hard to track down the sleaziest, most crime-ridden spot in all of New Gotham. Bruce is driving a beat-up old car that he hotwired from a lot and is cruising the neighborhood. Hookers are beginning to crawl out of the woodwork, and their pimps stay in their vans with tinted windows or in nearby alleys. Meth dealers are in business too; the meth heads are slinking in the background towards discreet fire escape stairwells or knocking on doors that never open fully. Some children have to be called back indoors.

New Gotham is much like the old, it seems.

Bruce parked the car, knowing that he'll need to find another mode of transportation after this. Unfamiliar cars don't stay parked long in this kind of places. Bruce has a hooded, stained jacket on over a tee shirt and old jeans, and he's slouching on purpose, like he's looking for a quick fix of something.

"Hiya handsome, wanna hit of sugar?" purrs a girl who looks older than twenty-eight but is probably only seventeen under the thick layers of make-up. Her eyes are bloodshot and there is a shadow of a bruise on her left cheek that isn't very concealed properly. "I'm clean, I promise."

"I'm not," snarls Bruce. He sees her pimp, and takes note of the street. Selina will love to take this one. She knows how it is to be on the wrong side of the tracks, and why a girl sometimes has to try anything to make ends meet, but a pimp that punches his girls will not be allowed to land another. He steals into a deserted alley and shimmies up the fire escape to the roof, where he hides in a shadow, and he texts her the location. She'll enjoy the workout.

Then he looks up, and the signal is in the skies.

It's almost instinct by this time for him to want to swoop over the rooftops and get to the signal. Gordon will be there, he's certain of it, but then he looks at his clothes and he has to smile. He's not Batman anymore.

He still runs across the roofs, however, faster than he used to in that heavy armored suit, just to regain the feel of purposeful motion. A year and a half of resting the leg has done wonders. He may never be able to leap tall buildings in a single stride, but he can still deliver a fairly punishing roundhouse kick and jump roof to roof. He finds himself a spot near the main road that he always had to use when he drove the Tumbler from the cave into Gotham.

Now it's New Gotham, but it's the same ol' roads.

He just has to wait. The good thing about Gotham, whether old or new? Something is always happening somewhere.

 

It was about eleven-thirty when Bruce hears the nostalgic roar of the Tumbler. It races past him and right into the Narrows-that-are-now-the South sector. Galvanized by the sight of his beloved vehicle, Bruce can't help but take to the roofs again with a huge grin. He doesn't have to go far to find his car - the kid's car. John Blake's Tumbler.

Then he hears the action and melts into the shadows.

Blake is battling someone taller and thinner than he, someone who moves fast and is holding a wicked-looking bowie knife. A few times the tip of the blade flashes dangerously close to John's neck, but he dances out of the way fast enough. Bruce keeps to the shadows of the roof, ready to leap down if necessary, but John looks capable of defending himself. It takes another couple of punches and then an uppercut before the skinny knife-holding guy is knocked down. The kid ties the guy up with plastic cuffs and kicks the knife away. Just as he turns around, Bruce sees a lurking shadow and a telltale glint.

 _Gun_.

Bruce has just scrambled on top of the parapet, knowing that he will not make it to the kid in time, when a deeper, darker shadow moves out to stand in front of the kid. A bear of a man, solidly-built, and Bruce freezes as John does.

And it is the manner in which the large man moves that places him in Bruce's memory.

_Bane is alive? Bane is alive._

Bruce Wayne suddenly thinks he should have come back to Gotham after a month in Florence. After a day of being away, just to have-

No. He wouldn't have killed Bane, even if he knew then. But Bane should be in a maximum security prison, not out in the streets, and Bruce is about to make sure that happens.

John Blake raises both hands. "Bane."

_The kid knows?_

"Robin John Blake," says Bane. "There is a gun trained on your skull from ten paces behind you."

The kid - Bruce Wayne has  _got_ to stop thinking of John Blake as a kid, he's old enough to father several children - does not turn around but his posture actually relaxes. "I know," he says. "I'm giving him a chance to walk away. Unlike you."

"No one gets a chance here."

"Everyone gets one chance," John counters. "You know this."

Bane smiles, and Bruce frowns at the twisted way the scarred lips and cheeks move. As though a cat has found itself a perfect mouse to play with. "He doesn't."

Then John Blake does something extremely stupid and Bruce uses all his willpower to not move at all. The kid turns around, leaves his back open to Bane, and addresses the gunman in the shadows.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," says John. "You're afraid. I can see the barrel weaving even from where I stand. If you wanted me dead, you'd have shot me just now. So this is what's gonna happen."

The gun is still trained on John. Bruce does not want to move, in case he loses the edge of surprise that might - might! - help in a fight with Bane, but he fears that he will be too slow.

John is still talking. "You will put that gun down, and then walk away, and I will have not seen you at all before."

"I d-don't believe you," says the person in the shadows, and it's a kid's voice, a real kid. "You kill people who-"

"-who waste their chances. I've heard of it too," says John with an easy smile. The half mask hides most of his features but the smile is boyish, attractive in a world-weary kind of way, if Bruce were attracted to men. "I don't kill."

The kid seems to buy the words and he stumbles out of the shadows, throws the gun down and runs.

"You don't kill," says Bane. "A very honest answer."

John smiles again, this time a wry twitch of his lips, and he does not turn back to face Bane. "What can I say? I was taught to be truthful."

"You weren't taught to be careless," says Bane, and he launches himself at John.

Bruce jumps to the fire escape on the next building and crashes down right behind Bane. The muscular man swivels around and there's not even a moment of surprise, because fists rain down on Bruce Wayne and the two men go at it, brutal and unarmored. Bruce is faster without the Batman suit, but more vulnerable, and Bane seems less strong but is more cunning.

"What the-" John is the only one who seems astonished by the sudden bout of mad violence. "Fuck!"

The two men have been trained by the same teachers and they are almost equally matched, until John Blake intervenes by shoving his way between them. He pulls Bane away and steps between, facing Bruce, leaving his back open to Bane again.

This all happens in a second and Bruce doesn't pull his punch.

"Fuck!" John swears again and returns the blow, a sweet right cross that staggers Bruce Wayne. "What the fuck, Bruce? Fuck, your fist!"

"Stay away from him," Bruce warns, trying to pull John behind him, and Bane actually growls.

John shakes off Bruce's hands. "Okay, time out. First of all, what the fuck, Bruce Wayne? I thought you were dead?" He winces and touches his cheek. "Secondly, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"This is Bane," says Bruce. He looks from John to the terrorist. "Bane, the man who threatened to bomb Gotham."

John raises his eyebrows. "And...?"

This feels like a play that Bruce is in but he has not read the script for. "All right. Why aren't you...?"

"Fucking terrified?"

"Yes."

"I saved his life. He owes me." John shrugs and crosses his arms. "So. You. Answers. Now."

Bane snarls and shifts in front of John, staring Bruce down. "You owe me a life, Wayne."

"Last I recalled you were supposed to be dead," says Bruce. "I owe you nothing."

"You owe me Talia."

John tugs on Bane, like an ant tugging on a redwood branch. "Whoa. Wait. Me first, Bane. You want a go at him, do it later."

"Later?" Bruce is startled. "What is going on here?"

A female voice pipes up from above. "Mmm. Seems crowded. Should I join in?"

"Selina, no." Bruce has enough to worry about.

"A girl just wants to watch," says Selina, and drops to the fire escape, making herself comfortable. Her catsuit is amazingly tight. "Go ahead. I need my soap opera fix."

John, Bane and Bruce each shoots her a glare.

She jerks her head at the thug on the ground and adds, "What? _He's_ getting a front row seat."

Bane simply reaches over and crashes the guy's face into the wall, and the thug faints, his nose bleeding. Bane drops him. "No longer."

"Bane!" John sounds exasperated instead of scared, and Bruce is even more confused.

Selina bursts out laughing. "Come on, Bats. The two of them need answers, and I think you're gonna get them too."

"You're not dead," repeats John. "So why the hell am I stuck doing your job?"

"It was never a job."

"You didn't even train me, you asshole," snaps John. "I coulda gotten killed in the first night."

Bane scoffs, and John stands in front of him again, between Bane and Bruce. 

Bruce narrows his eyes. "You saved him?"

"Yes, I did."

"He's a killer."

"He's working on redeeming himself." John shrugs again, and casts yet another exasperated glance behind him. "He trained me for the streets."

Bruce makes a face. "He trained you?"

John matches the grimace. "You weren't here to act as my sensei, Mr I-pretended-to-die-so-I-can-finally-bang-some-hot-booty." He looks up. "No offense."

"None taken."

Bane grips John's arm. "Little one, move aside so that I can kill him."

"Bane, we're not killing him."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not," says John, and he turns on his heel and glares right at the older man. "Bruce, get the fuck out of this town by tomorrow noon. Right now, I have a Bane to deal with, and I can't keep him here if you hang about."

"John, this man is dangerous-"

"He could've snapped my neck any time in the past year, Bruce Wayne," says John. His right hand is on Bane's chest, over his heart, and he is not looking away from the larger man. "I'm sleeping with him. So I know exactly how dangerous he is... to other people. Get out of my town, or I shan't be responsible for what happens after 12 tomorrow."

Bruce takes a second to fully process the statements, and then he flinches. "Your town?" And then a double-take. "You're-"

"Sleeping with him? Yes. Very happily, very willingly, and right now I'm really hard for him because the sex is amazing when he's angry," says John. He licks his lips - Selina sees the way John shifts closer, wedges Bane's thigh between his own - and says, "and New Gotham is under our joint protection. So I'm now asking nicely for you to leave. And if you stay around to watch, I will personally hunt you down and hold you down and get Bane to pluck out your eyeballs."

"Bane and you-" Bruce apparently has a death wish and he ducks just in time to avoid two sharp shuriken singing past his ear. He finally gets the hint. (Rich men seldom need to listen to others. It's a flaw.)

 

 

Selina giggles nonstop as they return to their hotel suite, and Bruce has to stuff his fingers in his ears for the rest of the night as she imagines aloud how the two vigilantes will work off the excess adrenaline in that alley. He also books tickets out of the country. If he's here any longer he will wander to the cave just to check what they have done to the place (or done  _in_  the place) and he's not certain he's ready to handle the truth. 

Maybe Alfred can check in on them.

 

 

"You're not looking for Bruce Wayne."

"I will look for him. I will kill him."

"If you do, I'll hunt you, and I'll make you kill me before you kill him."

Bane holds John Blake against his chest and then exhales slowly. "Why?"

"Because he gave me this place and this place helped me get you, and we have this together because of him. I know you blame him for... her. But she's gone, Bane, and I'm here." John kisses Bane's cheek and then sighs. "It's unfair to do this, I know. But I will not risk losing you to him, or to your rage."

"Little one..."

"Conquer and live, you said," John whispers. "Conquer your hatred and your thirst for vengeance, please. I need you to live. With me."

Bane tightens his grip. "I won't look for him as long as he doesn't come back looking for you."

John smiles and closes his eyes, snuggles closer. "I can do that."


End file.
